


Sharing a Room

by SpaceIdiot



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: A little angst, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, John Watson is in love, M/M, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Room, Wet Dream, and horny, canon Holmes and Watson, smut in chapter 2, vague description of masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceIdiot/pseuds/SpaceIdiot
Summary: Watson had shared a room with Holmes during a case hundreds of times, but this time something a little different happens.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 113





	1. 1

As happened so often while on cases, we were sharing a room at the local pub. Holmes had fallen asleep straight off, but I found myself tossing and turning well into the early morning hours. I was just beginning to find myself drowsy when I heard a faint moan coming from across the room. I glanced over, seeing that he had rid himself of his blanket in his sleep. It was not the first time I had seen him have nightmares, which often manifested in him tossing about and kicking his blanket to the floor. He had been vocal here and there, usually a few words or a name I did not recognize. I took pity on him, as the fire had gone out and the room was remarkably cold, and stood to replace his blanket. I hesitated when I heard him softly moan again. I felt myself go very red. I could have sworn - no, it couldn’t be, not Holmes, and yet - I could have sworn it was a moan of pleasure, not fear. I saw him shift slightly, his long legs stretched out bare from his nightgown, which had gotten twisted around him in his tossing. I had never allowed myself to admit it in the light of day, but the man had remarkable legs. Long, lean and muscular - I had always been a legs man. I stepped forwards again, scolding myself for looking at him so intently, but I stopped again suddenly when I saw what he was doing. His hand had slipped between his legs and - no, no. I could hardly believe that Holmes, so unexpressive and even repulsed as he seemed by anything akin to sexuality, could be having this sort of dream. I turned away, my heart in my throat and my chest heavy with guilt and arousal. His moans grew louder, and I glanced back to see his back arched and his hips thrusting slightly. I felt a shiver. Every animal instinct in me wanted to mount him, feel every inch of him, satisfy him, over and over, until the morning light showed through the window and the sound of the maid in the hall threatened to expose us.  
“Dear god,” I hissed, forcing myself to turn away once more, an ache forming between my legs. I ran my hand over my hair. I couldn’t look at him, it wasn’t right. I had no right to invade his privacy in such a way. Perhaps I should go into the hall. Wait until his dream subsided. I’d almost convinced myself to do so when his little moans and gasps turned into something else. I whirled around, terrified that he had seen me staring a moment ago, and yet… my lips parted in confusion. He was still asleep, so why, then, had he called out my name.  
“Oh,” I breathed. No, it could not be. It couldn’t be that he was -  
“Watson,” I heard him say again. He was dreaming of me. “Oh, Watson,” his breath came in low, soft gaps. I covered my mouth with my hands. Could this really be happening? I took a half step forward, staring hungrily, then retreated quickly, feeling ashamed.  
“Mmm, Watson… fuck.”  
I couldn’t help but turn around. “Oh dear god,” I gasped. There was no doubt about it. He was cumming. I saw him shiver, then his body relaxed, and with a faint hum he slipped back into deep sleep, rolling over onto his left side and drawing up his knees into the fetal position. I stood open mouthed, flushed and hot, staring at him for a moment. I could hardly believe what I had just witnessed. I felt confused and somehow dizzy, and all of a sudden I became aware of the fact that I was fully aroused. That did not surprise me. This man, this man that I loved, that I had dreamed about and thought of in my secret moments for years, to see his body writhe with arousal, to hear him moan and call out my name in the way I had so desperately desired - it would do any man in. It wouldn’t have been the first time I had touched myself at the thought of him, but doing it in the same room as him, it somehow did not feel right. I peaked out into the hall, and made my way to the washroom. It was only moments later that I returned to our bedroom, feeling sufficiently drowsy and relaxed to cover Holmes with his blanket before settling down under my own covers. I lay still and silently, basking in the faint afterglow. Before I even realized it, I was asleep.  
I awoke with the sun shining in my eyes through a crack between the curtains. I took in a breath, still feeling very sleepy. I thought for a moment about what had happened during the night, fully convinced it had all been some odd dream. I was a pleasant fantasy, that was all. I sat up, glancing over and seeing that Holmes was already up, and who knows where, and had left his bed unmade. I huffed, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and carefully making my bed. I moved over to Holmes’ and picked his blanket up from the floor, moving to throw it over the mattress. I hesitated. There was a telltale white stain in the middle of the bed that made my heart jump into my throat. It had not been a dream. Holmes had really been dreaming of me last night, and I had watched him. I felt overwhelmed, and vaguely guilty. He probably would not even remember. When I had such dreams I usually remembered little more than a pleasant sensation of satisfaction. I wondered if I could even face him. I threw the blanket over his bed and quickly moved to the bathroom, throwing some cold water onto my face before I dressed.  
When I went downstairs I saw Holmes sitting at one of the tables eating eggs and toast and drinking tea. At the sight of the amount of food on his plate I knew he must have solved the case. I walked up and sat down at the table.  
“Satisfied?” I asked, shocked and embarrassed at my choice of words.  
He looked at me over his cup of tea. I could have sworn he’d blushed. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, stuffing an alarmingly large hunk of bread into his mouth.  
“I mean, the case,” I said quickly. “I assume you solved it. You rarely eat before you’ve solved a case.”  
“Oh, yes of course,” he said. “It came to me as I woke up this morning.”  
“Helpful dreams?” I questioned, half unsure if I was prodding for an answer or just a complete idiot.  
He choked slightly on his mouthful of eggs. “Yes,” he said, swallowing. “Yes, very helpful. A good night’s rest can make everything look differently in the morning.”  
I nodded. “Yes.”  
We stared at each other a moment. He must remember his dream. Did he know I knew? The look in his eyes told me nothing, gave me no hint of hope that his dream was anything more than a one off, and that he hadn’t woken ashamed and disgusted by the thought of himself in a homosexual relationship. I knew if I pressed I could cause irreparable damage to our relationship. I scratched the back of my neck and huffed slightly.  
“I think I might have breakfast,” I said.  
“Mmhm,” he hummed, looking back down at his plate. “Mrs. Edwards’ food is quite good.”  
I half smiled, and stood to speak to the landlady about getting a second set of eggs and toast, and perhaps another pot of tea. When I returned to the table, Holmes had all but finished his meal, and was downing another cup of tea. I thought, one more time, I would venture a comment on the previous night. My years of pinning made me desperate.  
“I hope you slept well,” I said, “I awoke last night to find you’d kicked your blanket onto the floor.”  
His long lashes flickered at me over his bright gray eyes. Dear god he was beautiful. He hesitated, drawing his tongue over his lips to get rid of some crumbs. Did he have any idea what he was doing to me?  
“I slept very well,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes. “I had a… most pleasant dream.”  
I dropped the spoon that Mrs. Edwards had given me.  
The faintest of smiles played about his lips. “But I think, if I am not mistaken, you already know about that, my dear Watson.”  
My lips parted. Fuck. “Holmes, I…” my voice faded quickly as Mrs. Edwards walked over to place a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me. “I - thank you,” I managed to say. She nodded and walked off. I pushed the plate away slightly. “I don’t really think that I’m hungry anymore. At least not for that.”  
Holmes put down his tea cup. “I’m afraid the eggs will have to satisfy you for now, Watson,” he said standing up. “We’ve got a criminal to catch.” He looked at me for a moment, winked, and walked out of the room.


	2. 2

“And this morning, how did you know?”  
“I woke up briefly after my dream and was aware of you watching me.”  
I went red. “I tried not to,” I said quickly, sitting my glass on the side table, “But a man can only be so strong in a situation like that.”  
“Calm yourself, Watson,” he said, “I don’t mind. In fact, it’s a rather… stimulating notion.”  
My mouth went dry. “When did you… I mean, when did it start to be me, that you thought about?”  
He bit his lower lip a moment. “For some time,” he replied, “Months, nearly a year?”  
“So before… before you knew how I felt for you?”  
Holmes nodded. It was somehow very affirming to know that his feelings were not reactionary, but had developed on their own.  
“What would you say,” he said after a moment’s silence, “If we postpone the rest of this conversation.”  
My heart fell.  
Holmes tilted his head, leaning forward just enough to brush his lips against mine. “I would like to make love to you, Watson.”  
The words were like a sudden flash of light in a dark room. They startled me, excited me, and almost frightened me.  
“Oh, oh Holmes,” I breathed, “I’ve wanted nothing more from the moment I laid eyes on you.”  
The distance between us was closed in a moment. I’m not sure who initiated what, but within moments we were pulling at one another’s clothes, mouths crashing together and tongues exploring. I managed to have him shirtless first. My hands ran exploritoraly over his pale skin, finding every dip and curve, tracing the prominent lines of his collarbone and ribs.  
“You’ve so many scars,” I said quietly, “Are they all from cases?”  
He hesitated a moment. “Not all.”  
I furrowed my brows.  
“Nothing too traumatic, dear boy,” he said reassuringly, “But one gets into scrapes as a child, you know.”  
I made a mental note to probe him further on the subject at a later date, but I was far too hungry for him now to focus on much besides his naked body.  
In a few moments, I was shirtless as well. Holmes was kissing his way down my neck, running his fingers through my curly brown chest hair, and I couldn’t help but let out a few soft little sighs. This was better, far better, than anything I’d dreamed about. We had my cock out first, and he stroked it to full arousal.  
“You must have done this before,” I breathed, shivering at the way his skilled fingers moved over my skin.  
“Here and there,” he said, his free hand curving behind my neck and pulling me down to kiss him. “But not in a very long time.”  
I pulled back a moment. “You are sure, though?” I asked. “I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”  
He slipped off the bed and onto his knees on the floor. “Perhaps this will give you an indicator of my enthusiasm,” he said softly, trailing his tongue from the base to the head of my prick.  
I had to cover my mouth to keep from moaning aloud. “Holmes, oh Holmes,” I breathed.  
He moved a hand to fondle my balls as he licked and sucked the head of my throbbing cock. Perhaps it was my love for him that clouded my judgment, but I could have sworn I’d never felt anything as wonderful. His skilled movements brought me to a quick climax, and he lapped up every bit of cum my cock spilled into his mouth.  
“Dear god,” I gasped, feeling a little embarrassed at how quickly I’d come undone. “You are remarkable.”  
He smiled at me as I ran my hand over the top of his head, curling my fingers through his thick dark hair.  
“You flatter me, Watson,” he teased.  
“Come here, my love,” I hummed, guiding his face up to mine so that I could kiss him. “Let’s get you naked.” I felt his body tense, and I pulled back from our kiss. “What’s wrong?” I asked.  
He’d gone rather red, and didn’t look me in the eyes.  
“Holmes, what is it?”  
At last he glanced up. “I’d rather… I’d rather I didn’t get naked.”  
“Oh,” I said, both disappointed and confused. “Of course not if you don’t want to, but… why?”  
He looked away again. I saw him shiver slightly.  
“You’ll laugh,” he said.  
“I will not,” I protested.  
He huffed. “I’m not… I’m not very well endowed. I’ve had people be rather cruel about it in the past.”  
“Oh Holmes,” I said, softly caressing his face. “It is you I have come to love, without ever seeing more than just your legs or chest on occasion. I don’t give a damn what size your penis is. I can promise you, beyond any shadow of doubt, that I will find it absolutely beautiful.”  
He hesitated. “Could we at least put out the lamps?” He asked.  
I said of course, and did so, returning to the bed in the now dark room. I took Holmes' face in my hands and kissed him. It had surprised me that Holmes would be self conscious about such a thing, and I was determined to show him that I loved every inch of his body, no matter how big or how small.  
“May I undress you?” I asked.  
He nodded.  
I took my time, kissing his chest and licking at his nipples. The noises I coaxed from him were delicious, only spurring my movement on. Eventually I had him completely naked, sprawled out on the bed.  
“You are so beautiful,” I said quietly, kissing every inch of his skin. “Oh my darling, you take my breath away.”  
I knew he was blushing, despite not being able to see very clearly in the dark. At last I slipped my hand between his legs, taking his perfect little prick between my fingers and stroking it.  
“Perfect,” I hummed, sliding down to the foot of the bed, “Fuck, you are perfect.”  
I lowered my mouth around his cock, taking him easily. The head of his prick just barely grazed the back of my throat. The obscene noises he made as I sucked him only spurred me on. I felt him quiver beneath my hands, arching his back and stifling a little cry as he came suddenly into my mouth. Rope after rope of cum slipped deliciously down my throat. The amount surprised me, but I was delighted nonetheless. At last, after all this time, to be able to taste him like this. I thought that I would never want for anything ever again.  
When he finally stopped quivering, I crawled up beside him and pulled him close to me.  
“I believe that I have fallen in love with you, Watson,” he said quietly. “I have never been in love before.”  
I suddenly felt that I might cry. “Oh Holmes,” I said, burying my face in his neck. “I love you, I love you more than life itself.”  
He sighed slightly, shifted to close any space that was left between us.  
“In the morning,” he said, “We shall make love again.”  
I almost laughed. “You will not hear me complain about that arrangement,” I said. “If I could, I’d make love to you every morning and every night for the rest of my life.”  
I felt Holmes’s lips graze my forehead. “Sounds delightful, though impractical,” he giggled.  
I smiled. “I love you,” I whispered.  
“Mmm, I love you too.”  
Soon I heard Holmes’ breathing go steady, telling me he’d fallen asleep, and I soon drifted off as well


End file.
